Greatest Tits

N-Dubz, post-styling

I gather, according to my more yooful and, er, with it, counterparts that N-Dubz has released a Greatest Hits album. May I ask the inevitable and obvious question: what the fuck?
N-Dubz? Greatest Hits? They've only been around for the last six weeks and even then are only well known because they look like Jeremy Kyle audience members who looted clothes that fit them. That and the fact that one of them wears ridiculous hats to detract from a face like an abattoir.
What unimaginably tuneless arse fodder have they managed to conjure into an album-worth of tracks? How much gap-toothed grunting and squealing have they fashioned into a stocking-filler? God only knows and I sure as fuck don't intend to listen to find out. Instead I'll listen to the squalling of mutilated monkeys, overlay it with the sobbing of children and then picture Fazer, Tulisa and Dappy flogging it in Asda. That should do it.